On Friday, after noon, Kristin stood in the upper hall balcony, watching the bridal train come riding from the north, past the charred ruins of the church on the hillside. It was Erlend coming with all his groomsmen; she strained her eyes to pick him out among the others. They must not see each other—no man must see her now before she was led forth to-morrow in her bridal dress. Where the ways divided, a few women left the throng and took the road to Jörundgaard. The men rode on toward Laugarbru; they were to sleep there that night. Kristin went down to meet the comers. She felt wearied after the bath, and the skin of her head was sore from the strong lye her mother had used to wash her hair, that it might shine fair and bright on the morrow. Lady Aashild slipped down from her saddle into Lavrans’ arms. How can she keep so light and young, thought Kristin. Her son Sir Munan’s wife, Lady Katrin, might have passed for older than she; a big plump dame, with dull and hueless skin and eyes. Strange, thought Kristin; she is ill-favoured and he is unfaithful, and yet folks say they live well and kindly together. Then there were two daughters of Sir Baard Petersön, one married and one unmarried. They were neither comely nor ill-favoured; they looked honest and kind, but held themselves something stiffly in the strange company. Lavrans thanked them courteously that they had been pleased to honour this wedding at the cost of so far a journey so late in the year. “Erlend was bred in our father’s house, when he was a boy,” said the elder, moving forward to greet Kristin. But now two youths came riding into the farm-place at a sharp trot—they leaped from their horses and rushed laughing after Kristin, who ran indoors and hid herself. They were Trond Gjesling’s two young sons, fair and likely lads. They had brought the bridal crown with them from Sundbu in a casket. Trond and his wife were not to come till Sunday, when they would join the bridal train after the mass. Kristin fled into the hearth-room; and Lady Aashild, coming after, laid her hands on the girl’s shoulders, and drew down her face to hers to kiss it. “Glad am I that I live to see this day,” said Lady Aashild. She saw how thin they were grown, Kristin’s hands, that she held in hers. She saw that all else about her was grown thin, but that her bosom was high and full. All the features of the face were grown smaller and finer than before; the temples seemed as though sunken in the shadow of the heavy, damp hair. The girl’s cheeks were round no longer, and her fresh hue was faded. But her eyes were grown much larger and darker. Lady Aashild kissed her again: “I see well you have had much to strive against, Kristin,” she said. “To-night will I give you a sleepy drink, that you may be rested and fresh to-morrow.” Kristin’s lips began to quiver.